It was shortly after midnight when Professor Dumbledore appeared outside a ramshackle house called The Burrow, accompanied by a thin young man with unruly black hair and a pair of spectacles on his nose.

As they entered the building, a young witch, identified by Dumbledore and his companion as Nymphadora Tonks, took her leave.

"Oh, Professor, I almost forgot," she said, halting mid step. "There was this short blond fellow asking for you at the Leaky Cauldron earlier today. Tom didn't tell him anything, but I thought it would be best to let you know."

Dumbledore looked slightly worried.

"Did he give his name?"

"Hmm, yeah. I think it was Enric or Edric, or something of the sort. I think he's staying at the Cauldron if you wish to see him yourself." With that, she disappeared. Dumbledore nodded to himself, eyes thoughtful.

"Do you know that person?" a plump witch with an anxious expression on her kindly face asked Dumbledore. "Is it good news or bad?"

Dumbledore gave her a little, slightly sad smile.

"I'm afraid it's a bit of both, Molly. The bad news being that an old friend must have passed on from this world. The good however is that we just might have two new teachers instead of one. Now, I'm afraid I must be on my way. It seems that my night is going to be even busier than I thought. Molly, always your servant. Harry, take care of yourself."

Edward sat deep in his thoughts, staring at the empty glass of firewhiskey in his hand. He contemplated ordering another one, but he really shouldn't drink at all. Especially considering the last time he did, he ended up spending three weeks in St. Mungo's with nerve inflammation. Firewhiskey was good, but not good enough to face the wrath of Healer Thyme for it.

It had been four years now, since he came to this strange world. The past years had been… interesting. Never in his life he would've thought that when he finally settled now for a bit of quiet living, he'd be doing so in a completely alien world while taking care of two extremely old people. His temperament was just not suited for tending the elderly. Or for quite living for that matter.

Even in Germany he had spend most of his time travelling from one place to another. And even more so before that. It felt like he had spent most of his life looking for something. First it was the Philosopher's Stone, and after that a way home. It was strange, having that drive taken out of him. It felt like he no longer had a purpose for living, especially now when the Flamels were both gone.

Of course he still wanted to get home. But after last time… He wasn't sure if he could risk it. Besides, now he knew Al had his body back. Yes, he thought, letting out a long sigh. It was enough to know Al was safe.

And Al was probably a lot safer without him. What had he ever done to his little brother, except taken him from one danger to another? He sighed again, rubbing his eyes. That was another reason why he shouldn't be drinking. He always got too damn emotional. Next thing he'd know he'd be pining over Winry… Hell, a few more and he'd be pining over the bastard colonel. The funny thing was he couldn't even remember anymore just why he had hated that bastard. Except it wasn't funny at all. He wanted to remember everything. Every last detail. Because what really kept him up at night was the fear that some day he wouldn't remember what his brother had looked like.

"Edward?" a familiar voice from behind his back startled him out of his thoughts. He turned slowly, with a grimace on his face.

"About the time you showed up, old man," Edward said with a scowl breaking into a grin. He surprised himself by actually being happy to see Dumbledore. Of course, that might be just because the man was the last familiar person he had left in this world.

"I figured these people would let you know I was here even though they refused to tell me anything."

Dumbledore smiled, and sat next to him nodding to the bald toothless bartender.

"How long have you been in England, Edward?" the old man asked after he received his drink, sherry, if Edward wasn't mistaken.

"Just got here this morning."

"I'm sorry I missed the funeral."

Ed shook his head, staring at the glass in his hands.

"There wasn't all that much to miss. Mr Flamel didn't want us to make a huge fuss over it. Really, there was just me and that Mallory person, you know Flamels' attorney.

"Besides, I think he felt everyone had said goodbye to him too at…" Edwards's voice trailed off. He hung his head to let the bangs fall to cover his face.

"At Perenelle's funeral? Yes, I suppose you're right." Dumbledore said with a small sigh, sipping his sherry. Edward didn't dare to look at the old man, though he was sure there was a hint of laughter in his voice.

Mrs Flamel's funeral had turned into an awkward scene when Edward had collapsed in a weeping fit, nearly fainted and managed to tumble and fall in the grave on top of Mrs Flamel's coffin. In the end Mr Flamel had to take him by the hand and walk him away from the graveyard. Edward vaguely remembered sobbing something about Mother and Alfons and Hughes and even about his father all the way back to the Flamel house. Embarrassing didn't even come close to describing the situation.

"Edward, everyone has the right to grieve for their lost loved ones the way they see fit," Dumbledore seemed to see straight into his thoughts.

"I'm just not very good at funerals," Edward muttered to his hands, face red. The last time he had drunk had been after Mrs Flamel's funeral.

"Anyway, I have something for you," he said changing the subject and reaching for a small envelope in his coat pocket.

"Mr Flamel wanted you to have this," he said, pushing the envelope to Dumbledore, who took it with his left hand. Edward frowned, seeing his withered right hand.

"What's wrong with your hand?"

Dumbledore gave him a small smile, adjusting his glasses.

"It's nothing to worry about," he dismissed the question by opening the envelope and fishing a small key from inside.

"It's a key to a vault at Gringotts," Edward explained. "It's mostly his notes on the Philosopher's Stone, but there's some other stuff too."

Dumbledore nodded.

"Given your history, I would've thought you might have wanted to keep those notes." It wasn't a question, but Dumbledore had managed to make it sound like one. Edward shook his head. It hadn't taken him long to realize that the Philosopher's Stone in this world, and the one in his were very different from each other. For one thing, the process of making it was completely different. Mr Flamel had been most upset when Edward had demanded to know whether he had sacrificed human lives to gain the Stone, and Mrs Flamel had refused to talk to him for full fifteen minutes for even suggesting such thing.

"No," he said finally. "Once I heard about the stone, I thought I might be able to use it to go home, but I don't think it would've worked that way. The stone in my world was used to amplify alchemist's power. The one Mr Flamel made seemed to have a completely different use." Of course, when he first heard they had destroyed the stone he had been somewhat upset. Alright, he had been very upset. But it had been just a reflex. After spending so much time chasing the Stone, it was only natural for him to be upset.

"You haven't given up on finding a way home, have you?" Dumbledore asked, looking at Edward keenly over his half-moon spectacles. The younger man just shrugged, unwilling to discuss the matter. The question reflected his earlier thoughts too well.

"What do you plan to do next? I'd imagine the Flamel's arrangements are already taken care of," Dumbledore asked then, choosing not to press the issue.

"I really don't know. I imagine I'll have to find a job now," Edward answered truthfully, turning the empty glass in his hands. It was easy to imagine getting a job, but it was a different matter altogether to actually get one. After all, the only real work experience he had was from the military. The military of another country – no, another world. Somehow he just didn't quite see the Ministry of Magic hiring him. Especially now, when the whole wizarding world was having a panic attack over What's-His-Name.

"Well," Dumbledore began, sipping his sherry casually. "You could always come and teach alchemy at Hogwarts."

Edward's head snapped up to face the old man.

"Are you kidding me?" he asked carefully. Dumbledore shook his head, twinkle in his eyes. "I don't think so," Edward said gruffly looking down at his hands again.

It had taken him three whole months to muster up the courage to try alchemy. Of course, in the end it had been a pure reflex, to try and save Mrs Flamel from falling down the stairs. But it had worked. He had spend the rest of the day grinning like and idiot and transmuting everything just to enjoy the feeling again. But to teach alchemy? He just didn't have the patience for that! Al on the other hand, Edward mused, Al would make a great teacher. Who knows? Maybe he was a great teacher.

"I think you'd make an excellent teacher, Edward," Dumbledore said quietly, making Edward glance up again.

"Why'd you think that?"

"Well, you are highly dedicated to your art, and you know it thoroughly. But more importantly, I think it would be very important for our students to learn to defend themselves without a wand if a need should arise. And considering the time we're living, the need is all too likely to arise," Dumbledore replied, eyes serious. Edward just stared at him.

"Very well. I suggest you'll take a room here for the night. I understand Nicolas left you some money? Good, good. Please reconsider my suggestion. I must hurry off now, the night is short and there is still too much to do, but I'll be back in the morning. Maybe we'll breakfast together, and you'll tell me your answer then?" Dumbledore said, getting up. He tossed a few coins at the barkeeper, and with a nod and smile to Edward turned to walk to the door.

Just when Dumbledore reached the door he heard a voice from behind.

"I'll do it."

AN:

Ahahaha.. sorry about the Flamel's. And sorry about the incident with Mrs Flamel's funeral – my sense of humour is kind of morbid..

Anyway, this was the time shift I was talking about earlier. Ed is now 22 years old. Hogwarts will happen in the next chapter.

Oh well. Hope you liked this chapter, and a BIG thank you for the reviews – those really make my day!

I'll update again next week. Until then, happy holidays everyone!